


Habib

by coldflashwavebaby



Series: Love is Pain [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry is the Flash, Implied Sexual Content, Implied bloodlust, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resurrection, Season 1 of Flash, Season/Series 03, Sequel, There is stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know. You think he’s destined to be the next Ra’s. But you’re wrong. Oliver is too good and pure to be involved in all of this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habib

           

             It was official—Barry was having the _worst_ week. Between Joe and Cisco going to Starling to investigate Harrison Wells (who maybe wasn’t Harrison Wells? Everything was so confusing now.), and a new metahuman that could shapeshift into anyone, who decided to make a mess of everyone’s lives by framing Eddie for murder, kissing Caitlin with Barry’s face, and being an all-around pain in the ass. He and Caitlin took special joy in locking ‘Everyman’ away.

            The two headed to Joe’s house not long after, Caitlin not being completely comfortable with Barry being left alone after the concussion Everyman may have given him, and Barry just being eager to eat something. He was so drained from his fight, he’d need at least three Cisco bars and a whole pizza to keep him from passing out the minute he walked through the front door. 

            Of course, that was before he actually walked in and saw a man dressed in long robes with a sword in his belt standing in Joe’s living room. When he noticed Barry and Caitlin walking in, the man bowed his head slightly. “Hello. Do you know who I am, child?”

            Barry moved further in front of Caitlin. From what he’d been told by Team Arrow, there was only one person the man could be. “You’re Ra’s al Ghul, right? The Head of the Demon.”

            A small smile stretched slowly across the man’s face as he started walking around the room, pausing every now and then to look at one of the pictures on Joe’s walls with slight interest. “Yes, though soon that honor will go to Oliver Queen.”

            Barry scoffed. “Oliver will never join the League. He’s too good.”

            Ra’s al Ghul chuckled darkly and drew his sword. “I believe you’re wrong. In fact, Oliver Queen will beg to be my heir. All he requires is the proper motivation.”

            He took a step towards them, and Barry reached back to grab Caitlin’s arm. “Caitlin,” he whispered. “Call Oliver and run. I’ll hold him off.”

            Before the doctor could argue, Barry was rushing Ra’s with all his remaining speed. The Demon’s Head didn’t seem shocked by the display of Barry’s powers, or affected by them at all. His face remained stoic and expressionless as he side-stepped Barry’s attack. The speedster ducked away from Ra’s counterattack, ready to speed back at him, when the room started to spin.

            He groaned internally. He really wished he’d eaten some of Cisco’s bars now. His blood sugar must have been so low. Before he could react, a well-aimed kick was throwing Barry against the wall beside the stairwell. Then, his stomach burned.

            “BARRY!” He could hear Caitlin shouting, but all he could focus on was Ra’s al Ghul’s sword in his gut, pinning his body to the wall. Somewhere in his head, Barry wondered if the wound should be hurting. Was it a good thing if it wasn’t hurting? Did that mean he was going into shock? Was shock a good thing? He honestly couldn’t remember. Why wasn’t his body healing? Was it because he didn’t eat anything, or because Ra’s had some kind of magical sword?

             He barely heard Ra’s’ whispered prayer in his ear before the sword pulled free from Barry’s body. With the only thing keeping him upright gone, Barry’s legs gave out, and he fell the floor. Caitlin rolled him over on his back, probably trying to perform some kind of first aid on him until the paramedics got there. She was yelling at him to stay awake, to hang on, but all of that was so far away now.

              All he could think was that he was dying. Joe and Iris were going to be so upset. He was bleeding all over Joe’s nice floors. It was going to take forever for the stain to come out. And Iris would never know that Barry was the Flash…who would she write her blog about? Would Picture News fire her if there was no longer a Flash for her to report on? Would his mother be waiting for him? God, who would tell his dad? Would one of them, or would they be too distraught and send someone else, like Cisco… _oh, Cisco_. With him gone, Cisco wouldn’t have anyone to talk Star Wars with that just totally _understood_ the mastery of the series. Who would he be bros with? And poor Caitlin, having to watch him die. He was probably bleeding all over her nice work clothes. Who would she have to mother over when he died? And who would stop Dr. Wells from doing whatever he was planning?

              Mostly, though, he thought about Oliver, and how they’d had left things. He probably thought that Barry hated him now. He was going to blame himself for this; Barry just knew it. He hoped that Felicity and Laurel and Dig and Thea all helped him get over that. Oliver deserved to be happy. As he felt himself start to slip away, his memories drifted to the lightning strike, to their team-up, to his and Oliver’s last conversation...

0000000

            Nine months.

            He was in a coma for nine months.

            And he had superspeed. Not to mention there was some psycho running around Central with the power to control the weather.

Barry’s head was reeling. So much had changed in what seemed like a such a short amount of time to him, and there was only one person he felt would understand.

Which is how he ended up running ( _running! He still couldn’t believe it!_ ) to Starling City. He shifted nervously from foot to foot as he waited on an empty rooftop for the man he’d left Starling to get _away_ from. If he hadn’t worked with the vigilante for so long, he never would’ve heard the near-silent footfall behind him. As it was, he pretended he hadn’t heard it to give him a few extra seconds to prepare himself.

“Barry.”

He swallowed hard and turned. Oliver was… _amazing._ Did the man ever _not_ look amazing? Then, Barry saw. His hood was up, his mask on, but Barry could tell that something was wrong.

“What happened?” He asked, stepping towards his friend.

Oliver let out a shaky breath. “What, I can’t be a bit emotional that you woke up and that you’re okay?”

Barry’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. If there was one thing he’d learned working with Oliver, it was when the vigilante was lying or withholding something. “Oliver, it’s me.” He sighed. “You can tell me anything.”

The vigilante went quiet, and for a moment, Barry didn’t think he was going to answer. Then…

“Sara’s dead.”

That wasn’t what Barry was expecting. His heart sank. Sure, he and Sara weren’t the closest, but still. She was a part of Team Arrow. She’d fought Slade with them. She’d saved all of their lives more times than he could count.

“What happened?”

Oliver shook his head. “I don’t know. Someone shot her off a roof with some arrows while she was in town visiting. Laurel found her…”

Barry’s hand flew over his mouth. “Oh, god. Does Lance know?”

Oliver shook his head again. He took Barry by the hand in a way that, before, would’ve made his heart do a somersault. Now, however, it was a comfort, something to ground him. For a few minutes, everything was quiet as the two remembered Sara Lance and all she’d done for them and for Starling. Then, Oliver cleared his throat and stepped back.

“There was something you were going to tell me?”

Barry nodded, wiping away the tears that had started falling. “Yeah, I have something to show you.” When he sped across the rooftop and back at the speed of light, Barry thought Oliver was going to have an aneurism. After all that Oliver had seen and done, Barry was shocked that he was so surprised by the superspeed. Then, Barry told his story.

“All my life I've wanted to just do more.” Barry explained. “Be more. And now I am. I’ve been given the chance to make a difference, like you do—like I’ve watched you do for years. But the first chance I got to help someone, I screwed up. I was chasing the bad guy, and someone died.”

Barry hung his head. He still couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. He’d worked with Oliver as part of Team Arrow for almost two years; he should have done better.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Oliver was right in front on him, his hood pulled down. “Barry, you’ve stood by me through thick and thin—you know for a fact that I wasn’t always as efficient as I am now. I’ve made mistakes, and if you’re serious about using your powers to protect Central City from these ‘ _metahumans_ ’, you’re going to make mistakes, too. But you’re going to pick yourself back up again and fight harder to fix them.”

“What if Dr. Wells is right?” Barry sighed with a shake of his head. “What if I'm not a hero? What if I'm just some guy who was struck by lightning?”

Oliver’s hand moved from Barry’s shoulder to his cheek, a small smile appearing on his lips. “You _are_ a hero, Barry.” He chuckled. “You don’t need superspeed for that. Without you, I’d be dead a hundred times over, the Glades would be buried from the Undertaking, Slade Wilson would still be a threat…That lightning bolt didn’t strike you. It _chose_ you, because there is no one else on this planet worthier of these powers than you.”

He leaned forward to press their foreheads together, and Barry’s breath caught in his throat. “You aren’t going to be like me, Barry. You’re going to be better. Watching over your city like a guardian angel, the same way you watched over Starling; inspiring others the way you’ve always inspired me; making a real difference, saving people in a flash, in a way I never can.”

He raised his head to press a kiss to Barry’s forehead and backed away, giving Barry enough room to breathe again. “Also, take your own advice—wear a mask.”

Barry laughed breathily as he stepped back, ready to make his run home. “If you need me, Oliver, all you have to do is call. You know that, right? For _anything_.”

Oliver gave him a sad smile and a nod before shooting an arrow into a nearby building and swinging away. Barry let out a groan. He was so _not_ over him.

 

 

After that, Barry was too busy to really even think of Oliver. Between metahumans that could clone themselves, ones that could blow things up just by touching them, and even someone that could transform himself into poisonous gas, Barry was kept busy. Sure, when Felicity came by and worked with Team Flash, it brought back some memories of his time working with the Arrow ( _“Wait, you used to work with the Arrow?” Cisco gaped. “So, you know who the Arrow is?”_ That subject was quickly changed.), but the threat of Cisco’s cold gun being stolen and Leonard Snart becoming Captain Cold distracted them from any talks about Oliver. Iris did try to set him up with Felicity, but he quickly put an end to her assumptions by telling her that Felicity was _not_ the person in Starling he was hung up on.

“And I’m not ‘hung up’ on anyone!”

Iris chuckled. “Sure you aren’t, Bare.”

 

 _Anyway_ , between being The Flash and doing his job at CCPD, he was kept too busy for Oliver Queen to take up his thoughts for any long period of time. That is, until he, Joe, and few other cops cornered a metahuman bank robber that made one of the officers turn a gun on them. The next thing he knew, there were two arrows in the cop, and the Arrow was crouched above them, smirking down at Barry.

“Nice mask.”

And, with those two words, he dragged him back in. He followed Oliver back to where Felicity and Dig were waiting, the latter more than a little shocked by his new abilities. Felicity and Oliver seemed more familiar with each other than before—Barry caught more than a few small smiles the archer sent the blonde’s way. He tried to tell himself it didn’t hurt. It did. Then, Oliver offered to train Barry (he’d taught him some self-defense back in Starling, but Oliver thought that he needed vigilante training), which ended with two arrows in Barry’s back.

Ouch.

So, really, it was no wonder why when the metahuman, Roy Bivolo, whammied him, his first instinct was track down Oliver at his hotel.

The archer’s face twisted in confusion when he opened his door. “Barry.”

A fire ignited in Barry’s chest. “Expecting someone else? Like Felicity?” He growled, pushing his way into the room. Oliver frowned as he closed the door behind them.

“No. I wasn’t expecting you to drop by, though. Did you need something?”

The fire grew. “Yeah. We need to talk. We need to talk about what the hell is going on.”

Barry didn’t think it was possible for Oliver to look more confused, but there it was. His frown deepened as he took a slow step towards Barry. “What do you mean?”

Barry felt like throwing something. Preferably Oliver. “I’m mean us, Oliver!” He shouted. “I’m talking about what happened last year—what’s happened for the past two years!” Every little bit of aggravation and fury he felt towards the archer was poured into his words. “You flirt and tease and act like everything is just fine. YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!”

Oliver shook his head. “Barry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That did it for him. Barry was done talking as he sped forward, grabbed Oliver by his collar, and pushed him against the wall behind him. Before Oliver even realized he’d been moved, Barry crashed their lips together in more of an attack than a kiss. The archer froze in place, his face stiff as Barry’s mouth moved against his.

It wasn’t until a few seconds later Oliver finally pushed Barry away. “Barry,” he gasped, holding the speedster at arm’s length. “Barry, you need to stop!”

Half of Barry was yelling to pin him again, to take those lips again…but then the other half made him let go of his friend. He backed away, mortified at what he’d done and, before Oliver could say or do anything, he flashed out of the room.  

            Eventually, Dr. Wells discovered a way to cure the effects of Bivolo’s powers, and he and Joe were able to cure Barry before he did any more harm. He and Oliver then took down the metahuman with ease. Neither mentioned what had happened in Oliver’s hotel room.

            The next week, Caitlin and Cisco dragged him to Starling City (“I want to see the toys!” Cisco whined. “They got to see our sanctum!”), and Barry helped Oliver and the team take down an ex-Suicide Squad member called Digger Harkness. At first, Barry had worried that, being on Oliver’s turf, things would be awkward between them, or that he wouldn’t mesh with the team like before, but instead, it was almost like nothing had changed.

            Except _everything_ had changed. Barry couldn’t stand by and watch Oliver torture people for information anymore.

            “We’re supposed to be better than them!”

            “Barry,” Oliver growled, his fists clenching. “You of all people know what kind of city Starling is. This is the city Tommy died in, where Sara was shot off a rooftop with arrows, where my mother was murdered in front of me, where _you_ were almost murdered in front of me.”

            He rolled his eyes. “That’s a crap excuse and you know it. My mother was murdered in front of me too, Oliver. I was right beside you through everything—Dark Archer, Tommy’s death, Slade, your mother’s death. I don’t use it as an excuse to torture everyone that pisses me off!”

            Oliver’s nostrils flared as he rounded on the speedster. “No, you just push them against walls and force your tongue down their throats!”

            The minute the words were out of the archer’s mouth, Barry could tell that Oliver regretted it, but it was too late. Before he could say another word, Barry flashed away.

 

            After what was now mentally being referred to as _‘The Incident’_ , Barry and Oliver’s relationship was more than a little strained. Sure, they’d made up and defeated Digger Harkness together, and even had a rematch fight, but what happened in Central still hung between them, and Barry wasn’t sure if it was ever going to go away.

            Then, not three weeks later, Oliver was standing at his apartment door at 11pm, his face tired and resigned. Without a word, Barry stepped aside to let his friend in, unable to keep the curious frown off his face. When Oliver walked over to the fridge and pulled out the beer he kept for when Joe stopped by, he decided to break his silence.

            “Oliver, are you alright?”

            The archer pulled the top off and practically chugged half of the bottle before answering. “We found Sara’s killer.”

            Barry’s jaw dropped. “That’s great news, isn’t it? You found justice for her.”

            The ragged, guilty expression on his face told Barry there was more to the story, though. “It was Thea.” Oliver pretty much collapsed on the couch, his head falling into the hand not holding the bottle. Barry couldn’t hold in his gasp of disbelief, nor the sadness he felt for the Queen’s.

            “She’s been living with Malcolm ever since she found out that he’s her father, and apparently, he drugged her and made her to kill Sara. She doesn’t even remember doing it.”

            Now, it was Barry’s turn to collapse on the couch. He kind of wished that alcohol would do something for him now.

            “Now, the League of Assassins want me to tell them who killed Sara, or else they’re going to start killing random people.” Oliver finished his explanation by taking another long drink from his beer.

            Barry took a deep breath, trying to take in everything Oliver had told him. “Wow, that’s…heavy. What are you going to do?”

He knew what his job was right now. Same as it was when he worked with Team Arrow: listen and help. It was no different than the late nights the two would spend under Verdant, talking about things they’d lost and people they’d failed. It didn’t matter if Barry had powers now or that he was the Flash—they were still Barry and Oliver.

            “I’m going to take the blame.”

            Whoa. Hold up. “Oliver…” Barry shook his head. “You can’t. The League will _kill_ you. Find another way—pin it on Malcolm, do something!”

            “Malcolm has video evidence.” Oliver shook his head and set his bottle onto Barry’s coffee table. “I pin it on him, he shows it to Ra’s al Ghul, and Thea dies.”

            “Then kill Malcolm, and say that he wouldn’t come quietly!”

            “I can’t do that either, Barry. He’s Thea’s father.”

            “Better him than you!”

            Oliver rose from him seat on the couch and turned his back to Barry, his hands balled into fist like he was resisting the urge to hit something. Some of the tension melted out of the archer’s shoulders before he spoke again. “There’s going to be a trial by combat. If I win, the blood debt will be erased, and Thea will be safe. I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think I could beat him.”

            Barry gaped at his friend like he was a lunatic. Which, honestly, at this point, Barry wasn’t completely certain he wasn’t. “Oliver, you could still die. If what you’ve all told me about Ra’s al Ghul is true, he’s been around for decades, maybe centuries. Do you honestly think that you’ve learned more during your eight years of training than he has in that time?”

            When he turned back to Barry, Oliver’s face was resolute and resigned. “Barry, I didn’t come here to argue with you about this. I came…I came because I wanted to talk about what happened the last time we saw each other.”

            He knew this was coming. He’d dreaded them discussing his confession, and now he wasn’t ready. “You mean when I kicked your butt during our rematch?” he tried to joke, but Oliver’s expression remained serious.

            “You know what I’m talking about, Barry.”

            Barry moved to take a step away, to put some space between them, but Oliver reached out quickly and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Barry, we can’t ignore this.” He sighed. “I don’t _want_ to ignore it. I want the air between us to be clear, just in case…”

            Barry bit his lip. Of everyone he’d ever met, there were only two people he couldn’t deny anything to—Iris and Oliver. If his last wish was to talk with Barry about the most mortifying moment of his life, that’s what they’d do. He gave Oliver a small nod.

            “Okay.” The archer whispered, releasing Barry’s arm. “Barry, you’re one of my best friends. If something is up, you can tell me.”

            Oh, did Barry want to tell him. He wanted to tell him about the way his heart had leapt the year before in the Queen Mansion when he’d said he loved him. How it’d shattered when Oliver told him it was all an act. How every time he looked at Oliver, all he could think about was that kiss between them. “You know what happened, Oliver.” He said instead. “I got whammied by Bivolo. It messed with my head. I was angry and upset and emotional to the point where…well, you know.”

            He hoped that he sounded more sincere and confident that he was. By the look on Oliver’s face, he could tell he’d failed. The archer didn’t say anything though. Instead, he just sighed. “I’m sorry, Barry.”

            That was unexpected.

            Oliver stepped closer to Barry, resting his hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry that I’ve caused you so much hurt. I care about you more than almost anyone, and you have been there for me through everything. In return, I have been ungrateful and ungracious to you.”

            “Oliver—” Barry tried to argue.

            “No, Barry. It’s true. I have used you as a scientist without so much as a thank you, sent you into the field without so much as a weapon. I have made you risk your life and job countless times, and what’s worst, used you as bait, used the feelings for me I knew you had for me as bait, for Slade when he took Laurel last year. I am so sorry.”

            Barry’s heart nearly stopped. “You knew?”

            Oliver nodded sadly. “If I die tomorrow, Barry, I’ll regret a lot of things. But what I’ll regret the most is not being honest with you about how much I really appreciate you.”

            He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Barry’s forehead. “Please, forgive me.”

            Barry squeezed his eyes closed against the tears threatening to fall. “There’s nothing to forgive, Ollie. I helped you because you’re my friend, and I love you.”

            When Oliver left, Barry still felt like there was something unresolved between them. He shook it off, though, knowing that, whatever it was, they’d be able to talk about it later. It wasn’t until he got a call from Felicity about a week later, as he was moving his things into Joe’s house, that he realized he’d never get that chance.

            0000000

_“Do you really think he’ll hold up his word?”_

_“He has so far.”_

_“And how long do you think that’ll last? Especially now that he has the greatest weapon he could ever have locked up in his palace!”_

            The darkness didn’t last. There was no reunion with his mother, or bright light to take him. Instead, Barry woke up under silk sheets in an unfamiliar bed. When he opened his eyes, he was in a candlelit, stone room, lying on a four poster bed. At the foot of the bed, both asleep in wooden chairs, were Joe and Oliver.

He tried to sit up, or at least move to work the stiffness out of his limbs, but something was stopping him. That’s when he noticed the scarves wrapped around his hands and feet, tying him down to the bed. He pulled at them once, then again, until panic ignited and his entire body was thrashing in an attempt to get free. The sound must have woken up the rooms other inhabitants, because Joe and Oliver were both suddenly at his bedside—the former running a soothing hand through his hair while the latter whispered calming words to him. When Barry finally relaxed, Oliver started to work at untying him from the bed.

“What…” He croaked. His throat was so dry, it was hard to speak. Noticing this, Joe grabbed a glass from the bedside table and pressed it to Barry’s mouth. He guzzled it desperately.

“What happened?” He finally asked once the glass was emptied. The two shared a look, having an entire silent conversation that Barry couldn’t understand. It ended once Oliver gave Joe a small nod.

The detective leaned down to give his son a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’ll let you two talk.” Was all he said before slipping out of the room. Then, it was just him and Oliver.

The archer finished untying Barry in silence, not making eye contact or even just _looking_ at Barry more than he had to. Once he finished, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and sighed.

“It was all my fault.”

And there it was. That self-blame Barry knew Oliver would have. He almost said something, but Oliver held a hand up to stop him. “No, Barry. It is my fault. I should have listened to you, about everything. I thought I had it, though. I thought I could mess with something like the League of Assassins and step away unscathed.

“There’s a prophecy.” He explained, his eyes still not meeting Barry’s. “The one who survives Ra’s al Ghul’s sword will be the next Ra’s al Ghul.”

Barry thought back to Christmas. “And you survived him stabbing you.”

Oliver nodded.

“But that doesn’t make sense.” Barry frowned. “He stabbed me, and I’m still here. I survived.” Barry didn’t know it was possible for Oliver to look even more guilty than before. But that meant… “I didn’t survive…did I?”

Oliver’s eyes squeezed shut, like he was holding in every emotion he’d ever felt. “Barry, you were so close to death. You weren’t healing; your body was shutting down completely. All we could do is stand by and watch.” He swallowed hard. “Then, the League contacted me. If I were to become the next Ra’s, stay in Nanda Parbat and join the League, Ra’s al Ghul would use his Lazarus Pit to save your life.”

All Barry could do is stare at him in disbelief. “No. No, Oliver. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me that you found another way.”

“I’m sorry, Barry.” Finally, Oliver’s eyes raised to meet his, nothing but fierce determination behind them. “I had to. I wouldn’t let you die. You’ve done so much for me, saved my life so many times. How could you ever ask me not to do the same for you?”

“Because my life isn’t worth your freedom, Oliver!” Barry argued, anger flooding his body. “I would have rather died than see you become something you’re not! I’m not worth it!”

“You are to me!” Oliver growled back. “Barry, you mean _everything_ to me! That’s why I supported you moving back to Central, that’s why I agreed to train you, that’s why I didn’t want you getting involved in all of this!”

Any other time, Barry would’ve felt all warm and melty at the reassurance that Oliver cared so much about him. But now, all he could feel was anger. It was like Bivolo all over again, and he couldn’t suppress it. He wanted to throw Oliver across the room. He wanted to stab someone in the heart, and watch the light leave their eyes. He wanted to feel the blood on his hands. Blood…he wanted blood and pain and death…he wanted to kill… 

“Barry.” He heard Oliver say, fingers twining with his. “Barry, calm down. It’s okay. Everything is alright.”

The fury started to slip away, the fire in his chest dimming. But he could still feel it there, ready to blaze again. “What’s happening to me?” He asked, breathing deep to calm himself down. Oliver wrapped his arms around Barry and pulled him close, resting their heads together.

“There’s a side effect of your resurrection, Barry.” He whispered against the speedster’s temple. “Bloodlust. You’re going to feel the urge to kill, and it won’t go away until you do. That’s why we had to tie you down when we brought you up here. When you leapt out of the Lazarus Pit, you killed three League members before we could get enough tranquilizer in you to knock you out.”

Barry nearly stopped breathing. He’d killed three people… they weren’t innocent people, but people all the same. He could almost see it in his mind’s eye—speeding through the room with his new burst of energy, his hands ripping through anyone that stood in his way or dared fire an arrow at him like they were paper. It made him nauseous.

“It’s not your fault.” Oliver assured, stroking his fingers lightly down Barry’s spine. “There has to be a way to fix this.”

Barry nodded, knowing that there was more than one thing about this situation that needed fixing.

0000000

“We need to talk.”

Barry wasn’t sure how he stumbled out of his room alone, weak as he was, or how it made it into the temple without falling, but he was determined to give Ra’s al Ghul a piece of his mind. The assassin in question raised an eyebrow as the speedster stormed in, the conversation he’d been having with one of the League members forgotten.

“Mr. Allen.” He greeted, a cold grin on his face. “It is good to see you up and about. Your…abilities seem to have greatly assisted your healing. Most people would take days to recover.”

“Cut the crap.” Barry sneered back crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “Oliver told me all about the deal you made with him—my life for his. I’m not going to let it happen!”

Instead of the anger Barry expected, Ra’s gave him a sad smile, waving the League member away so they were left alone.

“I apologize that you were made part of a deal which you had no say.” Ra’s stated, clasping his hands behind his back. “But I assure you, this is how it must be. Oliver—”

“I know. You think he’s destined to be the next Ra’s. But you’re wrong. Oliver is too good and pure to be involved in all of this.”

Ra’s shook his head. “I understand your anger. You fear the one you love leaving you, becoming something you don’t quite understand. I felt a similar anger when I was forced to leave the woman I loved and our child behind to embrace my destiny. I walked away without so much as a farewell in order to save their lives. However, I am not cruel to expect that of Oliver.”

He stepped forward to lay a hand on Barry’s shoulder, a mask of compassion on his face. “I will not keep Oliver from getting the closure he needs. Before he embraces who he is destined to be, he must fully embrace who he was. He must admit his feelings for you, and then let you go.”

Barry’s blood froze. He stared, confused, at Ra’s. “Oliver doesn’t have feelings for me.”

A quiet laugh slipped from Ra’s’ lips. “There is a reason I chose to kill you, Bartholomew Allen. My spies have been watching you and Oliver for some time, so believe me when I say that he values you above all others. Oliver Queen loves you. And you love him. I am giving you both the chance I was deprived of to say good-bye to each other properly.”

His throat turned scratchy, and he averted his eyes so that Ra’s al Ghul couldn’t see the emotion welling up in them. Usually, he was good at hiding his feelings, but standing in front of Ra’s, he felt like he was stripped down, his every thought and feeling on display. “This isn’t fair.”

“Life is often more cruel than it is fair, and rarely does it provides an opportunity for any of us to find closure.” He removed his hand and moved away from the speedster. “Tell him how much you love him. Tell him whatever it is your heart needs to express. And do it now. Before he is lost to you forever.”

0000000

When Barry walked into Oliver’s room, the archer was curled up in a chair beside the balcony, staring blankly at the floor as though lost in thought. The sound of the speedster entering seemed to snap him out of it though, because the minute the door closed behind him, Oliver was smiling up at Barry.

“How are you feeling?”

Barry gave a small smile. “Better. Some of the League members brought me some food not too long ago, and I think it’s helped my healing a lot. Not to mention the whole magic hot tub thing.”

That earned Barry a smile from Oliver, who motioned for him to take the seat beside him. Barry accepted it, settling into the surprisingly cozy seat. “How are _you_ doing?” He asked. “I mean, you just gave up your freedom and everything you know for some spazzy, amateur ex-tech, current superhero. That’s gotta be rough.”

Oliver chuckled slightly. “I don’t regret my choice, if that’s what you’re asking.” He reached across the distance between them and looped their fingers together. “I remember the first time I thought I’d never see you smile again. It was after the Undertaking, when I found out that you were somewhere out in the Glades, trying to save as many people as you could.”

His smile turned nostalgic. “Barry Allen, never happy unless everyone else is safe. I thought I’d lost you that day. I didn’t realize at the time what that meant…what those feelings meant…but I knew that you were special to me.”

            Barry’s mind was brought back to a similar moment a year ago, when Oliver said something similar. This time, though, they were alone, there wasn’t an army threatening them, and Barry could tell this wasn’t an act. Oliver’s attention was focused on their connected fingers, his thumb tracing along Barry’s hand.

            “None of what’s happening is on you.” He said quietly. “Maybe…maybe what Ra’s says is true. Maybe all of this is destiny.”

            “You think you were born to be the next Ra’s al Ghul?”

            Oliver shrugged. “I don’t know. But it just feels…it feels like everything fell into place for a reason. Like, it was all leading to us sitting here.”

            Barry bit back his argument. He knew better than to fight Oliver on something he’d already put his mind to. “Well,” He decided instead, “then as much as it will kill me to see you stay here tomorrow, and as stupid as I think this entire situation is, I support you.

            “And, since we’re alone and admitting things, I can also tell you that I don’t regret a moment I’ve spent helping you make the world a better place. You have saved me in more ways than one, supported me as a fellow hero, and you’ve been my friend. And I love you.”

            Oliver’s eyes rose from their hands to meet his, a tiny smile gracing his lips. Barry almost swallowed his own tongue when the archer leaned forward so that their lips pressed together. It was so soft, it made Barry felt his body shake with emotion. A tear fell from the corner of his eye, but Oliver brushed it away with his thumb before cupping Barry’s cheek in his hand.

            When they pulled away, it was only an inch, and Oliver let out what sounded like a breath of relief. “I love you, too.” His other hand came up to rest on Barry’s other cheek, his fingers playing with the tufts of hair near his face. “God, Barry…”

            A rush of confidence filled the speedster as he rose to his feet, pulling the archer up with him. This could be the last time they ever saw each other. Barry wasn’t going to let them waste that. Their lips brushed together again once, twice, before coming together completely. Barry groaned when the archer’s hands snaked around his body, one down his back and the other behind his head as he pushed Barry back until the speedster was against one of the posts of the four-poster bed.

In any other situation, Barry would've been mentally complaining about the way it dug uncomfortably into his back, but right now he was in the arms of Oliver Queen, the man he loved, for the first, and quite possibly _last_ , time.

Oliver pushed forward to deepen the kiss, and it was good, _so good._ Much better than he even imagined it could be, because it was real. It was him and Oliver together, fitting like they were meant to be. Ra's could talk about Oliver's destiny for the rest of eternity, but Barry could feel how wrong the Demon was. He and Oliver, here and now, _this_ was destiny.

A whimper fell from Barry's lips when Oliver finally broke away, until he realized that the archer was pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled body that Barry had seen before, but never allowed himself to linger on. Now, though....

He let his fingers trace up Oliver's torso, brushing lightly over every scar until he reached Oliver's pecs.

Fingers wrapped around his, and Oliver lowered his head to press kisses on his fingertips. Barry heard a shaky breath escape his lips, and a smile grew on Oliver's face.

God, Oliver was never more attractive than when he smiled. The archer reached a hand towards the hem of Barry's shirt and paused, waiting for a yes or no.

The speedster didn’t even answer. In a flash, the shirt was pulled off, and then, they were together again; Barry’s arms wrapped around Oliver’s neck as the archer’s mouth connected to his neck, decorating it with kisses and small bites that make him gasp and moan. Barry’s hands lowered to the button of Oliver’s pants, and, before the archer could blink, his pants were on the floor along with Barry’s. The speedster grinned mischievously, arching up when Oliver’s hands squeezed his backside.

The next thing Barry knew, he was being pushed back onto the silk sheets of the bed with Oliver hovering over him. Calloused fingers traced down Barry’s skin gently, like he was something precious and delicate, and Barry suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“I love you.” He found himself saying. He felt stupid afterwards, but Oliver just smiled.

“I love you, too, Barry Allen.”

After that, everything was lost under gasps of “Oliver”, whispered confessions, and muffled moans.

0000000

            Barry woke up some time later to shifting on the other side of the bed. He cracked his eyes open and grinned when he saw Oliver, wrapped in some kind of robe, pouring two glasses of…something. “What’s that?” He asked, his voice hoarse and croaky from his cries of ‘More!’ and ‘Oliver!’.

            Oliver smiled back as he walked around the bed to sit at Barry’s side. “Hopefully something alcoholic.” He replied, handing him one of the glasses.

            Barry chuckled. “Either way, it won’t do anything for me. Speedster metabolism, remember?”

            “That’s not the only thing your powers do.” Oliver smirked, taking a sip of the…wine?

            Barry blushed the color of his suit. “You mean the vibrating? Sorry about that. It happens when I get…excited.”

            Oliver laughed loudly and leaned over to kiss the speedster. “Trust me, there is nothing to be sorry for.” He clinked their glasses together before taking another sip.

             Barry lowered his eyes, focusing on the way the liquid in his glass moved. “I’m going to miss you.” He barely said the words over a whisper, but Oliver tensed at them.

            “You know, you never once asked me to leave.” He said. “We could sneak out through the catacombs, run far away together, start a new life.”

            Barry shook his head. “Ra’s would find us, or would kill the people we love. We would be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. Besides, you made a promise. I wouldn’t ask you to break it.”

            Fingers rested under Barry’s chin and lifted his head, so that now he and Oliver were staring into each other’s eyes. “I love you.”

            Hearing those words coming from Oliver’s mouth, directed at him, never got old. Barry’s heart leapt, and he brought his glass to his lips to hide his blush. The liquid was strange. It tasted a bit like a sweet wine, but there was something powdery and acidic tasting in it.

            When he started feeling dizzy, he understood why. “Oliver…what…?”

            Oliver took the glass from Barry’s hand and sat it to the side with his own. Then, he rose from the bed and walked over to the wardrobe in the corner, pulling out a robe identical to his own. Barry struggled when Oliver came back and started dressing him in the robe, but whatever was in his glass was disorienting him.

            Once Oliver finished dressing him, he beat on the wall behind the bed three times. Barry frowned when Joe came running through the door with Diggle, Malcolm Merlyn, and Caitlin right behind him.

            “Joe?” He breathed, confused about what was happening.

            His foster father ignored him, instead turning his attention to Oliver. “Is it working?”

            Oliver nodded. “The amount Caitlin measured seems to be keeping him disoriented, at least. He’ll probably fall asleep on his own.”

            “Good.” The detective walked over to Barry’s side and took his son’s hand. “Everything’s gonna be alright, Bare. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

            Barry furrowed his brow, more confused than ever. “What?”

            Joe turned back to Oliver, his body language screaming irritation. “You didn’t even tell him?”

            “We…I didn’t exactly get the chance.”

            Joe rolled his eyes, but stood up. Then, Oliver took his place. “I’m sorry, Barry.” He whispered. “I wish there was more time for me to explain, but you can’t stay here any longer. Malcolm is going to lead all of you out of the palace, and Caitlin and Joe are going to take you back to Central, where you’ll be safe.”

            “Oliver…” Barry moaned sleepily. His vision was growing darker, his entire mind screaming to give in and sleep.

            “I love you so much, Barry.” Was the last thing the archer said before backing away and letting Dig come and scoop him up into a bridal carry. He could feel Dig running with him, could hear Malcolm’s whispered orders, Caitlin’s hushed assurances to him, but everything was heavy. The last thing he remembered before giving up his fight was Dig telling him that Oliver was going to be alright.

0000000

            Barry woke up to Caitlin, Cisco, and Joe standing over him. When he glanced to the side, he could see Dr. Wells—fake Wells—looking both relieved and furious. Maybe he was upset that Barry died? Or maybe that he lived? He couldn’t tell what Wells’ motivations were anymore. He couldn't tell anyone's motivations anymore.

            “Barry.” Joe’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “Are you feeling okay?”

            No.

            No, he wasn’t.


End file.
